The Hopes and Dreams of Lucy Baker: The most heart-warming book you’ll read this year. Jenni Keer
her face.
Despite not wanting a mental image of George pinning her to the bed, it did momentarily flash up and a little shiver pulsed through Lucy. She was clearly reading far too much Mills and Boon than was healthy.
‘Well, I’m absolutely certain I’m not his type.’ She crossed her arms.
‘Double nonsense. A pretty thing like yourself. The man would need glasses not to notice you.’
‘Funnily enough, he does need glasses, especially since that stray cat has been paying him uninvited visits. But, honestly, I didn’t warm to him at all.’
‘That’s often how the best romances start. Haven’t you noticed?’
‘Only in films.’ Lucy smiled and let her arms fall back to her sides. Of course she wanted there to be a special someone in her life – her previous special someones had turned out to be mediocre at best. And perhaps that was what was missing? A person in her life to make her feel loved and to cheerlead team Lucy as she strove her to reach her potential – not in a motherly or neighbourly way, but in a sexy, you’re all woman and the yin to my yang kind of way.
‘I strongly suspect there’s a great big softie under there,’ Brenda said. ‘I’m sensing a reason for his odd behaviour. He’s had a great deal of unhappiness in his life.’ She scrutinised her young friend for a moment, as if mulling something over in her mind. ‘There’s something else you need to know about this locket; the wearer will be imbued with an inner confidence. It won’t make you do unsuitable things, like run naked across the cricket pitch at Lord’s during a test match, but it will enable you to project a confidence that you wouldn’t otherwise have. You’ll notice, as I did, how much bolder you feel when you have it around your neck.’
‘But—’
Brenda put out a thin hand to silence Lucy. ‘Think of it like this: it’s enabling a side of you that already exists to come to the fore. I thought about passing this on to you many times, but I feel the time is finally right. Let the locket boost your confidence at work and treat it like training wheels. It won’t be long before you’re free-wheeling.’
As Lucy put the chain over her head, a warm sensation flooded her body. She dismissed the notion it was anything to do with the locket, satisfied that it was merely the glow you experience when a dear friend shows their love and concern. She would wear it to please her friend, but it would be tucked somewhere for safekeeping the moment she got back to the flat.
Brenda wandered over to a pot of mint and nipped off the top few leaves, crushing them in her fingers and bringing them up to her nose. Her eyes seemed to lose focus and she looked rather lost for a moment. A blackbird swooped over the wall in front of her. She blinked and shook her head.
‘Do you have time for another cup before you have to see to the horses?’ she asked, looking over to Lucy.
It was about the third time in recent weeks Brenda momentarily thought she was talking to her long-dead sister-in-law – a keen horsewoman, with a small stable yard attached to her property, and a great friend to Brenda in years gone by.
‘I work at Tompkins, remember? Jess got me the job after all those redundancies at the council last year.’
‘Oh yes, silly me.’ The old lady’s face scrunched up and then she plastered her usual bright smile back under her anxious eyes, as she bent forward to pull up some faded blooms.
‘So sad these flowers have gone over,’ she said. ‘The pretty blue, with the startling yellow centre. They always were favourites of mine. Oh, why can’t I remember what they’re called?’
Lucy looked at the abandoned brown stems of the once glorious forget-me-nots, as Brenda fiddled with the end of her thin plait, muttered to herself, and shuffled down the flagstone path to her back door.
Richard Tompkins, a silver-haired, quietly spoken man, waited for absolute silence before his low, throaty rumble commanded complete attention.
‘As you all know, Vernon retires on Friday, having been with the company for nearly thirty years, so make sure you all take the time to sign the card that’s going around. Pat has kindly taken the reins with regard to his leaving party and has organised a buffet at the The King’s Arms by the waterfront on Friday evening.’ Pat’s cheeks flushed as she looked at her feet and shuffled the wheels of her office chair slightly backwards. ‘Please make an effort to attend, especially as the company will be providing a case of wine to get the party started.’ A ripple of surprise ran through the office and a few people decided they might tip out for poor old Vern after all. ‘I can also confirm that our replacement general manager, Sam Mulligan, will start first thing Monday. Sam has a solid background in the retail toy market and has been contracted specifically to give the company a bit of a shake-up. I am fully aware we are lagging behind the times and we need to embrace the twenty-first century. Changes and economies are likely.’
‘Is that code for redundancies?’ someone asked from the back.
Lucy’s heartbeat quickened and she stared hard at her sensible shoes. Surely she couldn’t be unlucky enough to be made redundant twice?
‘I won’t lie to you, it’s a possibility. She successfully reversed the fortunes of the failing Toy Box chain, but she had to cut out a lot of dead wood. As you know, it’s now one of the leading online retailers in the country.’
‘She?’ repeated an incredulous Adam. Lucy also lifted her eyes in surprise.
‘I’m not sure Sam Mulligan’s gender should have any bearing on the matter, because I can assure you it will make no difference to her competence. Or is it that you have a problem working for a woman, Adam?’ asked Richard.
‘No, no, of course not. I just assumed…’
‘Never assume,’ said Mr Tompkins. ‘Right, I have some phone calls to make. Thank you all for your time.’
Lucy’s heart gave a little skip. A female boss. All the managers at Tompkins were currently male and had been so since time immemorial. But then it was a traditional firm. It was only five years ago the sales team had stopped posting hand-written order forms down a huge drainpipe for the warehouse team to pick. A shake-up was certainly needed and she was excited to think a woman would be responsible for it, as long as Lucy wasn’t part of the dead wood Mr Tompkins had alluded to.
As Richard left the office, there was hushed discussion.
‘Dearie me, not looking good for you, Lucy-Lou. Last in, first out,’ Adam said, stroking his chin and finding a small patch of whiskers missed by his razor that morning.
‘She wasn’t last in,’ said Jess, putting her hand on Lucy’s knee. ‘There are warehouse staff who only started at Christmas. Lucy’s been here a year. And she’s bloody fantastic. This new manager would be a fool to lose her.’
Lucy smiled at her friend but coloured at the attention.
‘Out of my hands, I’m afraid,’ said Adam, adjusting his cuffs and brushing imaginary fluff from his tie. ‘Back to work now, team. Our customers need us like books need worms. Accounts back downstairs please. The phones are calling.’
‘Someone needs to tell him his expressions are rubbish,’ whispered Jess.
‘Don’t you dare spoil our fun.’ Connor leaned forward, poking his head between Jess and Lucy. ‘I’m compiling a book of them. We need some entertainment to get us through the day.’
An afternoon of customers chasing late deliveries and grumbles from the warehouse went by quickly, but Lucy wasn’t as focused as usual. The meeting had unsettled her. Jess’s job was safe as there were only three of them in accounts and they were always overworked. But this new manager might decide to make economies in the sales office, as there were often times when Adam